I have some bad news. My house got burned down in couple weeks ago. So, I'm moved to the different house which I'm bring my tablet and laptops with me. In the different house which I found a marker, pencils, watercolor sets, and papers. I might make some artworks but the problem is I have slow Internet. The WiFi is really weak. So, I'm gonna be a little bit active in various different art sites. If the WiFi available than I will post some artworks on various different art sites then.

Chapter 1
Rain
Rain. In the beginning there was rain. In that rain, inside a house that had stood for a hundred years and had seen it's glory come and go, a man felt a slight throb in the back of his head. A slight prickle of the skin, barely noticeable to him, done just underneath the brainstem. A minute welt of blood formed at the base of the compact knife, that itself was held by hand wearing a large, but somehow elegant, leather glove. The other hand, with a faintly audible whirring sound, proceeded to wipe the blood with a small black handkerchief, which then retracted into the mechanical arm.
“Think now of everything you built and loved. For soon you won't be there to admire it.”
And like that, with a slight twinge in his head, passed the most powerful brain in the world. Neither his genocidal machines, which had murdered untold millions and drove the world into a civil bloodbath of kingdoms and dynasties destroying each other for control of the devices, nor his remote hiding place in the outer North, far removed from any major city, had stopped the man with a mechanical hand from assassinating one of the last of the Haashvi dynasty.
In truth, the assassin had other motives than to receive the due payment from the Queen of Ravens. On any other assignment that he had accomplished, he never felt a single ounce of emotion-not regret for what was to come of the passing of another soul from the world, nor contempt for the spirit in question. Whether it was the high Priest of the Dragons Court, or an lower class administrator spying on the workings of a rival Tauron, he never felt a drop of sentiment, not even as small as the one that he had wiped away with his sisters last gift to him: a handkerchief. But this time it was different. The man who he had just murdered was not merely another brick in the wall of people he had killed...instead, he was more of a hole in it. The wall of Death the assassin had built up to protect himself from the outside world, all of it's suffering and plight, joy and happiness, had an imperfection that had been filled with this man's death. He had nearly finished an vendetta which had been his life, but there was still one more spot for a brick yet to fill, one more twitch of the knife and swipe of the handkerchief he had to perform, like an actor doing the final part of a play or a dancer doing the last poirot before the show was over and the ovation began.
He was going to find Enzo Haasvi.
And then he would kill him.
He then became briefly distracted from his clear cut agenda to muse on the rain that had been steadily tapping the whole operation... Indeed, it seemed so musical and orderly that nature was not affected by death, that the same rain that had tapped before the man died was the same steady rain that beat down now, and the same, steady rain that had beat down in his home village before the war, before the first thermal bomb had landed on his doorstep… A match was struck in the darkness, a small little flame in held by an inky black hand.It illuminated his mask, which resembled a white oval decorated with a single, unnaturally large mouth, and revealed the far reaching circular hat on his tall head. Such hats were common in the Spider Tauron, but was an easy sign of being a foreigner here in the North. Minute beams of candle light exposed also a large desk covered in blueprints, along with scrawling that was not of any language or coded writing known to the assassin. The room itself was cramped,the walls covered in diagrams and mathematical chaos - equations layered on top each other, concentric circles inscribed within one another to resemble fractals… In the final days of his life, the now dead man had been searching for something. For hidden in the mathematical scrawl, beneath the fractals and blueprints, beneath the chaotic. arrangement of geometrical figures - there had to be reason. This conclusion perked the assassins interest. He crouched down, holding the candle up to one of the walls, and cocked his head to look a little closer. Then he saw it. At the base of the wall, there was a small, triangular hole, no more than 2 millimeters on each side, virtually invisible to anyone who had not been trained in seeing what was not there. The man in the mask then took out a small instrument out of the folds of his large black coat, which resembled a tiny jar with a silvery fluid swirling inside. He uncorked it and uttered one word-
“Ogon!”
The cap popped off instantly, the once silver substance turning fiery gold and rushing like an arrow towards the small triangular cavern in the wall. It filled it up instantly, then settled as a perfect cast, still burning like molten metal.
He then spoke the second word.
“Tawaq.”
He saw the fluid that burned in the wall shudder with energy and turn a soft turquoise, bathing the surroundings in a faint blue light, much contrasting to the light of the seemingly blazing match he held in his hand. The liquid then seemed to almost sliver inside the wall; he heard the small clicking of fine machinery, and a whirring sound reached his ears. The assassin could sense the mechanisms, spinning around in their wooden gearboxes.They were built by a dead man, many years ago, and were now ready to reveal secrets the departed inventor had no intention of divulging… An equally sized compartment opened next to the triangle, this time a square. Out popped a miniature slip of paper, barely 4 inches long, and completely dried out. This was despite the near constant presence of the rain in these parts of the world, and dried paper like this was as foreign here as the mask and the hat that the man wore to conceal himself. He then whispered the 3rd word- “Nuda!” The liquid; now colored milk white, literally seeped through the wall and proceeded to reenter the small bottle from which it was released, quickly turning back to its original silvery state. The jet-black mechanical hand holding it quickly recorked the bottle and returned it back inside the coat. With two fingers, he picked up the small scroll and delicately put it inside an equally small box. He stood up, and looked over at the dead corpse that was lying inside the bed, still in the same position that it was in when it was alive. The mind under the mask briefly thought of returning to the Queen to accept his payment. But that, he decided, would be unnecessary.
Chapter 2
Time
(????)

I'm barely active online lately but now I'm gonna more active online.
I thinking I should make more artworks but I will not gonna do fan arts for now because I barely watch cartoons lately. Maybe I should watch cartoons later. As for now, I am not going to use DeviantArt because I'm avoiding spoiled alerts.
Speaking of artworks, I'm trying to learn to how to use Blender(3d software) and 2d software. I'm not sure what artworks should I make. Maybe, I should make OC artworks or I don't know.
By the way, I will make artworks in the future.

The world was created by The Five In Heaven, Gods who could create and destroy worlds without raising a finger(If they chose to be in a form that had a finger) Their names were, as followed from strongest to weakest: Time, Earth, Death, Life, and Corruption.
They each came together to create a single world that would be in the perfect balance between them, a world that would run like a beutiful clockwork machine.
Thus they created a race for each of themselves - Time created the Dragons, Earth the Stone Giants, Death the Dark Elves, Life the Light elves, but Corruption, made a being that was weaker than all-man.
Corruption placed his race into a deep sleep under an island, far away from any of the continents of that day. The other gods were surprised, but did not object. In time, the races began to quarrel-over territory, food and shelter, or something else. The Five watched with mere amusement over these petty struggles, were each side was equally matched, but alliances frequently switched. However, very suddenly, what was once petty struggles escalated into a war, a war of terrible power - caused by the awakening of man. Man created machines of war that killed so many other species that the Gods were surpised at their power to murder, to steal recources, and outwit even the most cunning enemy. Then, man completely eradicated the light elves, which was the final straw for the other races. The dragons with their spells broke the machine of time, freezing the sun over the horizon in a terrible, infinite twilight. The Stone giants terraformed the entire planets crust and tectonic plates, bursting the mantle and destroying continents. The Darl Elves unleashed a plague of blight over all Humanity, its farms, and not a single city was spared. Man retalaited by building the largest machines ever - the Taurons, or mountain-cities which fought over the apocalyptic landscape for centuries. Eventually, the gods grew tired of what seemed to be endless fighing. They attempted to snuff out all the light in the world. However, one thing stopped them - Corruption. So they fought him, and whence he was defeated, they sent him and his world into the Abyss of Night, the House of Chaos himslelf. Corruption was given full custody of the world while in his prison. He was brimming with endless rage over his banishment, and decided to torment the remaing inhabitants of the world - slowly, for centuries lowering the sun over the horizon, cooling and boiling the planet in frigid wintes and burning summers. The dark elves, one of the few creatures realizing the proscess, combined their entire races power to escape the Machine, into another dimension beyond the reach of the Five. The Dragons settled on the remains of their gigantic dead leader Onu, who had had ben killed in the war against humanity. The Stone giants end was however the worst. They were all destroyed and powdered into massive, sentient seas of Sand, whose eyes are the last remaing peice of their soul. Magic, which before could be drawn from any source of energy, began to condense into places of power - like the corpse of Onu, the eyes of the Stone giants, and the Taurons of humanity. Humans now are spread out over the terreformed Machine, having 12 main countries, each of which draws on the reserves of energy left behind by the war machines they used to fight with. All the while, the magic in the machines, used to sheild humans from the effects of the swinging climactic seasons, are slowly windind down, leaking, or even worse - exploding, with the force that even atomic energy cannot match. Slowy, the world is dying.

We share a breath,
You
And I.
Lost in a moment of thick time,
In which it doesn't matter that neither of us knows,
I'm about to blow this thing.
And for a single,
Timeless moment,
I don't.
And we share a breath.
Then I pull back,
Because yours stinks like the reek of a dying world.
It's the smell of a thing left out in the car during that hottest week of summer.
When it's all you can do to drag yourself from that old Chevy LUV,
Whose AC broke the same year your brother gave it to you, because mom finally bought him,
“Something nice enough to have girls in,”
Never mind that you are a girl.
So it's really no surprise you didn't remember the half eaten sandwich sitting in the other seat as you clambered out,
Just wanting to escape the oppressive heat.
What is surprising, is I find myself breathing the malodorous perfume of festering wounds that came out the next time the door was opened,
A reeking,
Gagging scent.
Death smell,
Rot stench.
And somehow,
You have hidden it from me,
Until now, when I get close.
I find myself recoiling from it,
From you.
Dead inside.
That's what it means.
The scent accompanies a soul that has decayed and turned into nothing more than a corpse,
Somehow escaped from the morgue and out to find others to hollow from the stomach out,
Till everything is the shiny blue-black of frostbitten fingertips.
Tainted.
When were you tainted?
How didn't I see,
From the moment we met,
The blotch on your soul that makes blemishes
Look like butterflies,
And lies look like clever pros,
All the cons lost to the gentle rain that washes and weathers, erasing hard edges till they blend in, and only now begin to poke into the soft places of my skin.
Betrayal,
Tasting like shame,
At never seeing,
Never finding the dark lines inside you,
Until I was close enough to smell them.
Your words come out weighted thick, and full of tricks,
Blinding and deceiving,
Trying to tell me that I am the one wrong.
Wrong for judging your smudged and corrupted soul.
I waver.
Then,
Remember.
There is no light dimmer than yours,
Lost in the burning of others.
And I remember.
That mine is bright and clear,
And I have no reason for indecision or fear.
You blew it,
Not me.
(copyrighted to me, so don't take my stuff please)

​​​That wishes made
on twinkling stars
do come true
no matter what.
Now I should make
a wish and see
if my desires
will come to be
But deep inside me
I do know
that only I
can make things so.
That only I can
guide my fate
through all the choices
that I make.
And so please simply
light my way
that I might not
be led astray.
But wish I may or
wish I might
I'll find my own
way home tonight.

I believe that every morning has it's new awakening. And think the best advice I can give myself today is to affirm my commitment to God's loving presence from day to day. With this frame of mind, I would be able to achieve a highly spirited and motivated attitude to try a little harder and to be and do my best in whatever field I'm in.
God doesn't want me to be passive but a real optimist an active doer. I never to be special by continiously enhancing my inner faculties discovering my hidden knowledge and developing and refining my skills for a complete me.

The guy who been bullied me in couple years ago from deviantart is GONE!! NO MORE darkfall303!! See http://darkfall303.deviantart.com/
To be honest, I don't hate DeviantArt anymore. I feel safe. I think I should make another DeviantArt account in the future.

I always feel happy, do you know why?
Because I'm not waiting anything from anybody.
The expectations always hurt.
Life is short. Love your life.
Be happy.
Keep the smile and remember.
Before speaking,
Listen.... Before writing
Think.... Before praying
Forgive.... Before hurting, consider the other.
Before hating,
Love.... and before dying, Live.